It's funny what comes to your mind after. Those thoughts that you remember thinking. The ones that at the time were hard to access. But then later they surface. Slowly. Hazy, lazy, foggy impressions--I thought I'd share them. For it's one thing to experience a weird accident, it's another to analyze it. And I'm good at that--analyzing, especially my own thoughts.
As I mentioned in my last blog, I passed out on the street in front of a local restaurant almost 3 weeks ago. I am still in the midst of testing. From EEG's to EKG's to everything in-between, I will be poked and prodded for several more weeks to come. Hopefully, these tests will come to nothing. However, I will succumb to make my doctors and my husband happy.
Anyway, back to those silly thoughts of mine (you see how my mind now wanders) the first of which happened right there on the sidewalk. When I first began to regain conscienceness I remember a man kneeling beside me. He was the one taking my pulse, I heard his voice, and felt safe. He felt under my throat, he felt my wrist and told me that everything was going to be OK. And guess what I did? I reached out and grabbed his hand and held on for dear life. I did not know what was happening, I did not know where I was, I did not understand anything. All I knew was that this person was taking care of me, and so I held his hand. And he let me. He held my hand right back until the EMT's got there. I'm a little embarrassed now when I think about it. Holding the hand of a stranger, someone whom I've yet to lay eyes on. And yet, for me, at the time, it was the right thing to do. It brought me comfort. And I'm very grateful for that.
As I was laying there in a pool of blood, I noticed that my head was laying on something soft. First thought? I hope it's not my new sweater! Seriously. That's what I thought--not my new sweater! No worries, it was just a few towels brought out by the restaurant to soak up the blood and act as a makeshift pillow for my head. Secondly, as I was laying there I felt some tugging on my handbag. I had fallen to the right and my bag was tucked underneath my arm. I heard a female voice--she was trying to get to my wallet for my ID and guess what I was concerned with? Don't cut the strap! Yep, that is what was going through my mind as I lay there semi-conscience. Don't cut the strap, you will devalue my purse if you cut the strap! I'm sure there is a lot to be said about a woman who is more worried about her sweater and handbag than she is worried about her own bleeding head--however, we won't go there now, will we?
Once in the ambulance, and once my eyes were finally beginning to open and the pain was settling in, other thoughts began to form. When I felt the EMT begin to run his fingers through my scalp, I tried to get the words out (but, they would not come) don't let them shave my head! Again, vain upon vain--I know! I'm just being honest though. Would you want a shaved head? Fortunately for me, the laceration was on my face. Oh wow, that comes across ever weirder and more vain. However, they found that it was to the right of my eye, between the eye and the hairline. No shaving necessary. Relieved doesn't even begin to describe how I felt at that moment. My hair was going to be saved!
One thing that I probably should admit right here and now is that I watch a lot of TV. I love my TV's, (oh I only have 2, big deal) the bigger the better as far as I'm concerned. Maybe because I've lived most of my adult life with a traveling husband so it became an important part of my evening--to wile away the loneliness. Maybe. Sounds good anyway. So, imagine this, you wake up in an ambulance, lights, and sirens are going and you pull into some type of big bay that looks like an airline hanger. OK, bear with me here--I had a random thought--what if I'm being kidnapped--like on 24? Don't laugh, it could happen! Never mind that I'm a nobody, without money or fame--it could happen! Ummm, no. I then realized it was just the ambulance bay. Boring...
When taken into the ER my mind was finally beginning to clear a little--which made for even more random crazy thoughts. Yes, my thoughts were many, and they were random. I think I kind of told the staff what to do and how to do it. Hopefully not though, maybe I was hallucinating that part. I can laugh now, I know that I have a very active imagination. I don't know why all this happened to me, but it did. So why not make the most of it. Why not laugh, take selfies, remember the funny crazy thoughts and just get back to thanking God every day for this wonderful awesome life that He has blessed me with. Why not take some time to reflect on all that could have gone wrong that didn't. I'm still here aren't I?
I've spent the last couple of weeks recovering from a concussion, and a big ole' black eye, but I'm OK. I truly believe that when all these many tests come back, they will come back negative--not a thing wrong with me--just a clean bill of health that will be a comforting piece of knowledge to live with for the next 20-30 years of my life. God is always--good!
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Shiner
That's what I ended up with all right--a shiner and a laceration of about one and one-half inches next to my right eye. I don't remember much. Just that I'd had an awesome day. I had been out shopping and lunching with a friend, then we had decided to meet back up later that same afternoon to check out a little pop-up shop that would be in our town for the next 3 days. Afterward, I was to drive home and throw a tri-tip on the barbie. But, I didn't. And that's when it all went wrong.
It was about 6:00 on a Friday evening, a glorious spring day and I thought--I should call my husband and ask him to walk into town and meet me for dinner. My car was already downtown and I thought it would be easy to just drive home together afterward. We live just a half mile away--so close.
I remember walking across the street to a restaurant close by and putting our name in for a table for 2 out on the patio. We love that particular patio, it's great for people watching. My husband soon strolled up and we walked inside to check on the status of our table--the place was packed with others having the same idea. It was a little warm in there for me, so I told him that I was just going to step outside. I needed some fresh air.
Do you know what tunnel vision is? Yeah. I got that feeling along with a clamminess and as I was looking for a bench to sit down on, I passed right out. Right there on the sidewalk, smacking the right side of my face hard, splitting it open. I was apparently "knocked out" for several minutes. I remember none of this of course, but this is what was told to me later.
What I do remember is this--slowly awaking to voices talking about my pulse. I remember probing fingers checking underneath my neck and also on my wrist. I could feel someone tugging at my handbag, trying to get to my wallet for an ID. Once found they rushed into the restaurant calling my husband's name. I heard his voice but still had not opened my eyes. I hear another male voice and also a female voice--I believe they were the ones who were taking such good care of me. I heard someone say that the ambulance was on its way and then I heard sirens. Still, I had not yet opened my eyes.
When the EMT's got there, things began to move quickly. I tried to sit up and focus--I saw wadded up blood soaked towels (from the restaurant) where my head had been but then immediately had to lay my head back down as things began to once again spin out of control. I was eventually loaded up onto a gurney and whisked away to our local hospital. My husband followed in my car. I was later glad that I had mentioned to him just exactly where I had parked.
Once in the ER, many tests were taken. CT, X-rays, blood panel, etc. All came back negative. I was in the hospital for a mere 6 hours. I was fortunate to walk away with a concussion, a one and a half inch laceration and a huge black (and later purple and yellow) eye. The diagnoses came back as
Vasovagal Syncope. It caused me to faint. I just wish I hadn't smacked my head so hard on the cement. It was all the blood that freaked everyone out. And which prompted my lovely trip to the ER.
Of course, I will have to go for a further check up with my regular doctor, but I am satisfied with the diagnoses that I received from the hospital. Next time I feel that clammy, tunnel vision type of feeling coming on, I will immediately sit down wherever I am. It's a much shorter distance to the ground that way!
It's now been about 10 days, I am feeling much better, the swelling is going down, the colors of my eye are changing like the colors of fall, and I am far less dizzy. I am taking it easy, not making any sudden head movements and getting back to my normal daily routines.
I am so very thankful for those that came to my assistance--for those who just happened to be in the right place at the right time, for my husband, for the EMT's and ER staff. Everyone was wonderful, caring and kind. I am very grateful. All is well. And God is good.
It was about 6:00 on a Friday evening, a glorious spring day and I thought--I should call my husband and ask him to walk into town and meet me for dinner. My car was already downtown and I thought it would be easy to just drive home together afterward. We live just a half mile away--so close.
I remember walking across the street to a restaurant close by and putting our name in for a table for 2 out on the patio. We love that particular patio, it's great for people watching. My husband soon strolled up and we walked inside to check on the status of our table--the place was packed with others having the same idea. It was a little warm in there for me, so I told him that I was just going to step outside. I needed some fresh air.
Do you know what tunnel vision is? Yeah. I got that feeling along with a clamminess and as I was looking for a bench to sit down on, I passed right out. Right there on the sidewalk, smacking the right side of my face hard, splitting it open. I was apparently "knocked out" for several minutes. I remember none of this of course, but this is what was told to me later.
What I do remember is this--slowly awaking to voices talking about my pulse. I remember probing fingers checking underneath my neck and also on my wrist. I could feel someone tugging at my handbag, trying to get to my wallet for an ID. Once found they rushed into the restaurant calling my husband's name. I heard his voice but still had not opened my eyes. I hear another male voice and also a female voice--I believe they were the ones who were taking such good care of me. I heard someone say that the ambulance was on its way and then I heard sirens. Still, I had not yet opened my eyes.
When the EMT's got there, things began to move quickly. I tried to sit up and focus--I saw wadded up blood soaked towels (from the restaurant) where my head had been but then immediately had to lay my head back down as things began to once again spin out of control. I was eventually loaded up onto a gurney and whisked away to our local hospital. My husband followed in my car. I was later glad that I had mentioned to him just exactly where I had parked.
Once in the ER, many tests were taken. CT, X-rays, blood panel, etc. All came back negative. I was in the hospital for a mere 6 hours. I was fortunate to walk away with a concussion, a one and a half inch laceration and a huge black (and later purple and yellow) eye. The diagnoses came back as
Vasovagal Syncope. It caused me to faint. I just wish I hadn't smacked my head so hard on the cement. It was all the blood that freaked everyone out. And which prompted my lovely trip to the ER.
Of course, I will have to go for a further check up with my regular doctor, but I am satisfied with the diagnoses that I received from the hospital. Next time I feel that clammy, tunnel vision type of feeling coming on, I will immediately sit down wherever I am. It's a much shorter distance to the ground that way!
It's now been about 10 days, I am feeling much better, the swelling is going down, the colors of my eye are changing like the colors of fall, and I am far less dizzy. I am taking it easy, not making any sudden head movements and getting back to my normal daily routines.
I am so very thankful for those that came to my assistance--for those who just happened to be in the right place at the right time, for my husband, for the EMT's and ER staff. Everyone was wonderful, caring and kind. I am very grateful. All is well. And God is good.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Hope Again
Sometimes when I pray, I don't get an answer. Other times, I hear from God right away. It's the times that I don't hear him, or feel him, or get that answer I so desperately need--well, that bothers me. I wonder, why isn't he speaking to me? I find myself praying even harder, spending that much more time in prayer, seeking him, begging him really, to answer me. I assure him that I can handle the answer, whether or not it's what I want to hear--I guess in a sense, I am reasoning with him. Oh, what he must think! I can just imagine him patting me on my little girl head and saying--don't worry, I've got this handled--you're on a need to know basis.
It's the other times though that I want to talk about. The times when he does answer me. When I get that yes or no or wait--that something to hang on to. The times when I hear that still small voice that calls me by name and says to me--here is your answer. I got one of those the other night. And it blew me away.
I need to be extremely honest here and say that I had lost hope. Just a little bit. I think I was mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that I just might not ever see or get what I was praying for. I was wondering if I'd have to go my entire life without ever knowing--was my prayer answered? I know, I'm a little weird, but that is what I thought. So, when the answer to my prayer came, I was surprised. I had reconciled myself to not knowing. I guess I was just protecting my heart. I do that sometimes. OK, all the time.
What happened is this. I read a phrase in a book. A verse. And then through God speaking to my heart, I discovered a different way to interpret that verse. It was in that moment as if time had stopped--just long enough for my little brain to wrap itself around this new concept. In that short amount of time--my world changed. Hope soared through my heart. And at the same time, I felt a little dumb and a little giddy. Why hadn't I noticed that before? Why hadn't I read that simple little twist? I think I know why now. After spending a couple of weeks analyzing and processing what I discovered, I think I know why. It's God's timing. I'm convinced of that. It's all about God's timing. It's all about when we need to know. I didn't need that bit of information until now. However, I guess I was desperate. And in my desperation and need for an answer from my God--the only one with the answers--he heard my cries and he showed me something in his word that not only gave me hope but changed my perspective concerning certain things. How awesome is that?
Have you ever read the story of the prodigal son? I was raised on it. I'd heard it told every which way. I can recite that story like nobodies business. And I'd like to say right here and now--I was the good one, the faithful one, the one who never left, who always obeyed and who was always faithful. Yes, I was that one. Or so I thought.
You see, in the story, the father was so happy that the prodigal son had returned, that he was alive, and not dead. That he wasn't lost. He was just happy to be with him. To have him back home safe and sound. This father loved his sons so much. And right then and there, right after once again reading this story for the billionth time, I heard it--his voice. He said to me--you've been both sons, and I've always loved you, always gone after you, always protected you, always wanted you near me. You are my child. Of course, I immediately began to cry. I've been both, I thought? And you loved me anyway? The feelings of love and acceptance that flowed through my heart right then brought me to my knees. He loves me no matter what. No matter what I do, think, or act. God loves me. And he wants me back.
I thought of my own children then. I will tell you this--there isn't anything they could ever do that would or could make me love them any less. My love for them is unconditional. Period. I love my kids, I would give my life for them. And I would always welcome them back--just happy that they are home, and safe. Yes, I would throw them a huge party. And even if the other kids were a little bit jealous, I would say to them--I love all of you. I always will. There is nothing that will ever change that fact.
After having this very special moment with God--for that is about all the time it took, a moment--I felt a peace and a rest overtake my heart. I thought of those whom I deeply love and care for, friends and family who have walked away from God, and I knew then--he will always love them, he will always go after them, he will always protect them. For he is God, he is their father, and he loves them unconditionally. They are safe, he will take care of them. I relaxed into the very arms of my father, and I knew--he loves them. And in that moment I had hope again.
I wonder if this is what hope truly looks like?
It's the other times though that I want to talk about. The times when he does answer me. When I get that yes or no or wait--that something to hang on to. The times when I hear that still small voice that calls me by name and says to me--here is your answer. I got one of those the other night. And it blew me away.
I need to be extremely honest here and say that I had lost hope. Just a little bit. I think I was mentally trying to come to terms with the fact that I just might not ever see or get what I was praying for. I was wondering if I'd have to go my entire life without ever knowing--was my prayer answered? I know, I'm a little weird, but that is what I thought. So, when the answer to my prayer came, I was surprised. I had reconciled myself to not knowing. I guess I was just protecting my heart. I do that sometimes. OK, all the time.
What happened is this. I read a phrase in a book. A verse. And then through God speaking to my heart, I discovered a different way to interpret that verse. It was in that moment as if time had stopped--just long enough for my little brain to wrap itself around this new concept. In that short amount of time--my world changed. Hope soared through my heart. And at the same time, I felt a little dumb and a little giddy. Why hadn't I noticed that before? Why hadn't I read that simple little twist? I think I know why now. After spending a couple of weeks analyzing and processing what I discovered, I think I know why. It's God's timing. I'm convinced of that. It's all about God's timing. It's all about when we need to know. I didn't need that bit of information until now. However, I guess I was desperate. And in my desperation and need for an answer from my God--the only one with the answers--he heard my cries and he showed me something in his word that not only gave me hope but changed my perspective concerning certain things. How awesome is that?
Have you ever read the story of the prodigal son? I was raised on it. I'd heard it told every which way. I can recite that story like nobodies business. And I'd like to say right here and now--I was the good one, the faithful one, the one who never left, who always obeyed and who was always faithful. Yes, I was that one. Or so I thought.
You see, in the story, the father was so happy that the prodigal son had returned, that he was alive, and not dead. That he wasn't lost. He was just happy to be with him. To have him back home safe and sound. This father loved his sons so much. And right then and there, right after once again reading this story for the billionth time, I heard it--his voice. He said to me--you've been both sons, and I've always loved you, always gone after you, always protected you, always wanted you near me. You are my child. Of course, I immediately began to cry. I've been both, I thought? And you loved me anyway? The feelings of love and acceptance that flowed through my heart right then brought me to my knees. He loves me no matter what. No matter what I do, think, or act. God loves me. And he wants me back.
I thought of my own children then. I will tell you this--there isn't anything they could ever do that would or could make me love them any less. My love for them is unconditional. Period. I love my kids, I would give my life for them. And I would always welcome them back--just happy that they are home, and safe. Yes, I would throw them a huge party. And even if the other kids were a little bit jealous, I would say to them--I love all of you. I always will. There is nothing that will ever change that fact.
After having this very special moment with God--for that is about all the time it took, a moment--I felt a peace and a rest overtake my heart. I thought of those whom I deeply love and care for, friends and family who have walked away from God, and I knew then--he will always love them, he will always go after them, he will always protect them. For he is God, he is their father, and he loves them unconditionally. They are safe, he will take care of them. I relaxed into the very arms of my father, and I knew--he loves them. And in that moment I had hope again.
I wonder if this is what hope truly looks like?
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